A Smoke Raised with the Fume of Sighs
by Hahukum Konn
Summary: Roman and Emery share a moment one day in private.


**A Smoke Raised with the Fume of Sighs  
**Chapter 1**  
**

Disclaimer: This work of fan-fiction is not intended for personal profit. All characters utilized herein which are not creations of myself belong to The CW.

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Roman remembered the day he'd been allowed to watch recorded films on television. The humans who guarded the Sector had carefully controlled Atrian access to technology, as well as what they could see and hear of the outside world.

That was when he really _realized_ humans actually spoke many languages, not just the _English_ his father Nox had taken to studying with a passion and encouraging him and Sophia to learn as well. At first, Roman was flummoxed at the way some of these languages seemed to almost-but-not-quite sound like English at times.

Nox had smiled and patiently explained that he had been told that one day, he might speak to humans outside the nation-state entity in which they lived, and that this film-watching was the first in a series of slow preparations for that day.

"But why can't we leave the Sector _now_ and see the world for ourselves?" a cranky twelve-year-old Roman had irritably asked. Both were on the roof above their pod, the small garden area a welcome distraction from the grind of day-to-day life in the Sector.

Nox, looking up from preparing a soil bed, at first appeared to be ignoring it as he said, "Bring me that gardening trowel."

Roman found it and grudgingly shoved it at his father, who took the implement with equanimity and began turning the soil. After what seemed an interminable silence, Nox sighed and looked down at his son. He placed a gentle hand on Roman's shoulder, the pressure comforting rather than oppressive.

"The humans, Roman – it's never easy with them. We—" He snapped his jaw shut and sighed, pursing his lips for a moment. He continued, speaking more evenly now. "I _want_ our peoples to coexist in peace and freedom. But there are secrets all of us have to keep; some more than others."

"I guess," muttered Roman as he looked away. "I know we can't tell them about cyper, for one thing."

Nox took his hand off Roman's shoulder and smiled, holding out the trowel. "Exactly right. But I think one day all the truths we need to tell will come out. Just not right now. Now come, show me how well you can handle a simple garden."

**YEARS LATER**

The first chance Roman had gotten, he'd made a bee-line for Marshall High's library, and found a computer connected to the information network the humans called the World Wide Web. Consumed with curiosity about these other tongues humans spoke, he at first came across all manner of grammars and written forms. He finally had an answer for his long-ago wonderings, as he found that English was originally a member of a group called Germanic, but had borrowed many words from many other languages since then.

But reading dry words on a screen hovering in front of him was _boring_. He realized he needed to _hear_ people speak these strange languages, not just see how they wrote.

His father's use of Sondiv, to Roman, sometimes seemed almost deliberate, carefully planned when he would speak to other Atrians. But whenever he spoke it to Maia, it always seemed… private, almost. Two people sharing an intimate moment rather than using language as a tool; he remembered his father would say quietly to his mother, "_Asa ijita idi._" It always seemed to lift her spirits when she heard it.

Roman's mouth quirked. Well, why not? He entered in some search parameters and soon was watching and listening, until the ringing of the bell informed him lunch break was over and afternoon classes were starting.

He wondered if his father had ever counted all the ways to say, "I love you."

/\/\/\/\

One day, inside the cleaning supplies room, Roman looked at Emery before he leaned in for a kiss. The slight rosy color in her cheeks lent her a vigor that hid the years she'd spent in hospital fighting a long-term disease.

He thought about all those phrases he'd heard – all the ways one can say "I love you" among humans.

Some had a rather nice symmetry to them, a kind of equal weight to them that reminded him of the Sondiv phrase he'd heard his father say several times over the years. Others seemed a bit absurd, as though the very act of saying all those syllables took away from their importance.

He smiled as he thought of one particular language. He let his lips almost form the words, then chuckled as he realized explaining it would probably ruin the moment. Before she could ask, he leaned in for the kiss he'd been waiting for and let the words run through his mind instead:

_Jeg elsker deg, Emery_.

_Asa ijita idi, Emery._

_I love you, Emery._

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Author Notes: I mainly wanted an excuse to combine the fact that I'm learning Norwegian with some Roman/Emery fluff. :) The story title is from a line in Romeo and Juliet, and it approximately takes place during 1x08, "An Old Accustom'd Feast".


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